The Assassin's Salvation (Mandrake Company)

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  It wasn’t as if Sergei and Jamie were heading off to some public swimming hole. Everything they needed for the night was here. He plucked up one of the oils labeled Sexual Scents: Tropical Kiss. That sounded promising.

  Before applying it, Sergei untwisted Jamie’s loose braid of hair, pleased to see gooseflesh arise as he took his time, combing his fingers through it and massaging her scalp.

  “I’m already liking your ministrations,” Jamie said.

  “Good.”

  Sergei let his fingers roam a little longer, then shifted the mass of soft blonde locks to the side of her shoulder. He dropped some of the goop onto his hands—surprisingly, the subtle coconut and flower scent was appealing—then rubbed them together and laid his palms on Jamie’s back. He wasn’t actually all that experienced at the masseur role, but he had been reading up and watching videos on the network. For warm up, he ran his hands across the muscles of her back, then up to her shoulders, applying pressure but not too much. He untied the string of her suit, so it wouldn’t get in the way. He slid his fingers over her deliciously smooth, soft skin, and it didn’t take more than a few seconds before his eager shaft was pressing against the side of the table. He sighed at himself. He had to have the most ridiculously active libido. At least this time, his penis was focused on the right woman.

  “That feels wonderful,” Jamie murmured.

  His first thought was that she meant his penis, but he gave himself a mental kick and called himself an idiot. He was being careful to keep that against the table, not her hip. No need to reveal that he had tossed her gift away prematurely.

  “I’m glad,” he said, moving his hands in the techniques he had read about, searching out knots of muscle that he could gently knead into a smooth and relaxed state. She didn’t have nearly as many knots as he did. He imagined he would be quite the project if she offered a return massage.

  After a while, he spoke again, bringing up a question that he had debated whether to mention tonight. With Jamie sighing enthusiastically and making contented murmurs at his touch, he thought it might be a good time. “There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

  “Yes?” she said dreamily.

  “When I first flew with you to the Albatross, you were talking to Ankari about wanting to return to school, about applying for the next semester.”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice less dreamy.

  “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I have these stalker tendencies, you see. A bad habit drummed into me by the job.”

  “Really,” she said dryly.

  At least she sounded amused, rather than annoyed. Not that he had yet had her annoyed with him. It was inevitable that she would be someday, but he loved her even temper, her lack of judgment, her calm acceptance. With his hands kneading her shoulders, he leaned in close and kissed her on the back of her neck, savoring her warm scent and the taste of her skin. Or maybe that was the Tropical Kiss lotion.

  “I wanted you to know,” he said, “that I would miss you immensely if you left, but I’d understand your desire to study and to do something else with your life besides roaming around with mercenaries. And I’d wait for you, if you wanted to leave and maybe come back someday.” He kept himself from admitting that he would be crushed if she left, going someplace like a university in the hyper-civilized core of the system where an assassin would be shunned, if not shot outright. He didn’t want to sound too needy, too vulnerable. She thought he was strong, her thorn. He wanted her to go on thinking that. He kissed her again, savoring this moment in case it wouldn’t last forever.

  “That’s sweet,” Jamie said.

  Sweet? Hm. Why did that sound like the start of a sentence that would have a but in it?

  Sergei ran his hands down her back and to her legs, lovingly kneading the muscles in her hamstrings and calves, while wondering if there was any way he could tempt her to stay, to make her dread the idea of leaving him.

  “But,” Jamie said, and he winced, “I was thinking I might wait another semester or even a year before applying.”

  Sergei’s chest swelled with hope, though he kept his hands steady, his voice casual as he asked, “Oh?”

  “I’ve been learning a lot on the job—and while sneaking into enemy fortresses too. And I’ve developed this odd craving for going off on adventures with this strange man.”

  “A very strange man.” Sergei pressed his thumbs into her calf, rubbing at a tight spot. “What about that other problem that you wanted to escape? Leering men with wandering hands?”

  “It’s the oddest thing, but it hasn’t been a problem at all these last couple of days. Men have been looking at my eyes instead of my breasts when they greet me, and Striker passed me in the corridor yesterday without jostling me or saying anything lewd. He even stood aside so I could go around him.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Think it has something to do with the fearsome assassin I’ve been wandering around the ship with?”

  “I think it has more to do with that mercenary you threw over your shoulder and onto the table.” Sergei slid his hands up to massage the backs of her thighs, ostensibly working on the muscles there, though his fingers had a tendency to stray inward for light, teasing strokes. “That’s usually how it works with bullies. I should know. We had a number of them prowling the corridors of the space station where I grew up. You beat up someone they respect, and that’s usually all it takes to get them to leave you alone.”

  “I didn’t beat anyone up,” Jamie protested, shifting her legs farther apart. Inviting him to explore that sensitive inner flesh more? Gladly. “I just wanted to leave, and he was in the way.”

  “I believe the story may have grown in the telling, but if you would like to continue your self-defense classes, I would be glad to teach you.” He leaned down and kissed the back of her thigh as his fingers rubbed and roamed. The kiss turned into a nuzzle, and he inhaled deeply, wondering how long she would want the massage to go on before she was ready for something more vigorous.

  “I would like that. Thank you.” Did her voice sound a little hoarse? Maybe she was already thinking of more than massages.

  He let his thumb brush her suit between her legs and found the material damp. His groin flexed against the table. Easy boy, he told it. We’re taking our time, making sure she never wants a massage from another man.

  He drew back, fighting the urge to focus his rubbing fingers on that tiny area covered by her suit.

  “Do you want the front done?” Sergei asked. Damn, his voice was hoarse.

  “Yes, please.”

  Jamie shifted onto her back, her breasts jiggling, distracting him from his thoughts of her lower regions, though he didn’t take his hands from her legs. As he kneaded her quadriceps, his eyes were locked on her pert nipples.

  “Looks like my suit fell off,” she murmured, smiling, watching his eyes even as he watched her.

  “Poor quality construction obviously,” Sergei said, his mouth dry. He wanted nothing more than to cup one of those breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking it and teasing it with his tongue. So long as he kept up with the massage, what was the harm? His groin agreed with the sentiment. More than that, it wanted him to climb on top of the table and test its sturdiness.

  One thing at a time. He leaned forward, leaving one hand on her thigh, rubbing and stroking, and lifting his other to her breast. He opened his mouth, anticipating her taste.

  “Sergei,” Jamie said, admonishment in her voice.

  “I’m sorry,” he blurted, feeling guilty.

  “Your suit fell off too.” She grinned impishly at him, and he relaxed, realizing she was teasing.

  “Really poor construction.”

  Hopefully, she wouldn’t wonder how it had come to hang in that bush over there.

  “Hm.” Jamie lifted an arm toward him, and he leaned down again, so she could slide her hand around the back of his head, fingers scraping through his hair. Another surge of blood flowed to his groin. She pulle
d his head down, toward the breast he had been ogling.

  He went eagerly, his tongue slipping out to taste that dark pink tip.

  A soft contented moan came from her lips, and she shifted toward him, her fingers still kneading his scalp. Encouraged, he sucked and licked as he slid his hand across her abdomen and up to cup the other breast, rubbing his thumb across her nipple. He relished the deep rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers dug into his scalp, sending shudders of pleasure through his whole body.

  “I wonder,” she breathed, “if the bottom of my suit will fall off too.”

  “It seems inevitable,” he murmured against her skin. “Due to the poor construction.”

  “Yeah,” she rasped.

  Sergei continued to stroke her nipple with his tongue, but he let his hands drift southward, finding the knots at the sides that held the suit. He had them undone within seconds and slipped the bottoms off, dropping them onto the floor with the rest of their discarded clothing. He returned his hands to her hips, her thighs, her inner thighs… and brushed her with a thumb again. This time, there was no barrier, and he more fully felt her damp eagerness. She moaned and bent her knees, shifting her legs wider, begging for his touch. He was happy to comply, though the feel of her shifting and squirming against his hand made him squirm. Barely conscious of his actions, he rocked against the side of the table, though the hard wood of the edge wasn’t what he wanted to feel against his naked shaft. He wanted—

  “Sergei,” Jamie gasped.

  He lifted his lips from her breast, meeting her eyes.

  “I didn’t fix that table leg for no reason.”

  “No?” he whispered, slipping his thumb between her lower lips, stroking her gently.

  She gasped, pressing against his hand. He rubbed more quickly, and she groaned, arching into him. His cock was straining, and it was all he could do not to leap onto the table and take her right there, but he relished her soft moans, the way she looked at him hungrily. He wanted to tease her, to extend her pleasure.

  “Why did you fix it?” he whispered.

  “Sergei,” she panted, squirming harder against him, sweat gleaming on the quivering muscles of her belly.

  “Yes?”

  She growled and sat up, surprising him by grabbing his shoulders and jamming her lips to his, devouring his mouth with her own. She practically flung herself off the table and wrapped her legs around him, pressing her hot moist core to his aching penis.

  “I want you,” she moaned into his mouth. “Now.”

  “Any time,” he growled and gripped her ass with both hands even as he returned her ravenous kiss, finally releasing his willpower and guiding her onto his shaft.

  A wave of pleasure crashed over him as he thrust into her. This time, he was the one groaning into her mouth, his body so hot, so hard. He braced her against the table, using it for support. They could have stumbled over to the bed, but they had already found a rhythm, her legs locked around him, and him thrusting into her, his muscles taut, keeping them upright as they fused together. Exquisite ecstasy ran through him, knowing that this beautiful sweet woman wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She was his, and he was hers. Whatever the galaxy threw at him, he had her waiting for him, understanding him, comforting him. And kissing the hell out of him as she slid up and down his pumping piston, swelling, straining, nearing climax.

  She came first, a great shuddering release that rocketed through his body as much as it coursed through hers. She kept rocking into him, her eyes full of warmth and pleasure as she looked into his. She whispered his name as if it was the sweetest word in the world, and he burst over the edge, a torrent of pleasure flooding him as he stared back into her eyes, loving every second of their bonding.

  She kissed him, her shy smile returning, as if she hadn’t just been clawing at him and begging for him to take her. “I didn’t know you could do it standing up.”

  Sergei chuckled, the tension draining out of his body, and he carried her to the bed. “You seemed impatient. I didn’t want you to have to wait until we lay down.”

  She giggled. “You’re so thoughtful.”

  “We’ll use the bed next time. Wouldn’t want to waste the room’s fine amenities.” He curled up beside her on the blankets, his chest against her back, relishing the feel of their bodies pressed together. He slid his hand along her waist, still reveling in the notion that she had chosen him, out of all the potential suitors on the ship—in the system. She wanted him. He kissed her shoulder and vowed to be good for her.

  “I look forward to it,” she whispered, gazing over her shoulder at him.

  THE END

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading The Assassin’s Salvation, and if you’ve been following along with the other Mandrake Company novels, thank you for checking those out too! I’ve enjoyed writing these first few books, and if there’s enough interest, I would definitely like to continue with the series. If you want to see more, please consider leaving a review for this novel or stopping by my site to say hi and let me know you’re enjoying the stories. It’s all appreciated. Thank you!

  http://www.rubylionsdrake.com

  rubylionsdrake@gmail.com

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Afterword